“Picasso is sketching at a park. A woman walks by, recognizes him, and begs for her portrait. Somehow, he agrees. A few minutes later, he hands her the sketch. She is elated, excited about how wonderfully it captures the very essence of her character, what beautiful work it is, and asks how much she owes him. “5000 francs, madam,” says Picasso. The woman is incredulous, outraged, and asks how that’s even possible given it only took him 5 minutes. Picasso looks up and, without missing a beat, says: “No, madam, it took me my whole life.””
This anecdote found on the internet has held true for me in many facets of my life. One of the most valuable pieces of advice a mentor gave to me on cataract surgery was to place the blunt chopper underneath the phaco at all times. I can’t tell you how many times this particular technique has saved me from disaster. Thanks to this pearl, I have broken the posterior capsule with the phaco needle only once in nearly 20 years of performing cataract surgery, and that was because a patient had abruptly and violently shaken her head during a crucial part of the case.
When I opened my solo practice in 2011, the only resource I had was a 4 page throwaway journal article on how to start a medical practice. I was essentially going in blind, having little insight into what the correct strategy was for growing a solo practice during a time when most people called me foolish for choosing such a career path. There is no question that I made many mistakes along the way. In particular, had someone told me one specific sentence in the beginning, my practice would have reached maturity 2 to 3 years earlier, and I most likely would have doubled my income during my first 5 years.
Behind a few words lie countless hours of pain, suffering, heartache, and regrets. The worth of a purportedly simple piece of advice shouldn’t be measured by the time and effort it takes to deliver it. Instead, it should be scrutinized by how much cumulative value and benefit this message brings to one’s situation.
